


finding peace of mind

by bosbie



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Aliens, Alternate Universe - Space, Falling In Love, First Meetings, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-30 18:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18321005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bosbie/pseuds/bosbie
Summary: Yuuri is an interplanetary diplomat to a recently discovered, technologically advanced planet. Earth is in the process of kissing said planet’s ass and assigns him as the tour guide to the prince of one its most prosperous countries.He has two weeks to accomplish Prince Victor's goal of a "truly unique, Earthian experience." It turns out to be a lot easier to achieve than Yuuri had initially thought it would be.





	finding peace of mind

Outside Yuuri’s lone office window, electricity hummed and congested traffic rumbled. Normally he would keep his window closed, as he preferred to work in silence, and the city ambiance often took him out of his work. But it was hot, and that day in particular was sweltering, and Yuuri resigned himself to the breathing of the city in order to combat the unrelenting heat sticking the back of his button-up to his shoulder blades. 

An unfortunate inconvenience, considering the years he had sacrificed for the sake of getting this particular job of this particular prestige, but — well. He hadn’t had anywhere else to be at the time, anyways, so there was no use in complaining five years into the gig. 

The office phone rang. It was his boss’s secretary, her voice neutrally pleasant as she requested he reported to Ambassador Celestiano, current head ambassador to planet Ierus on behalf of planet Earth, immediately, and if he could bring in a cup of coffee — half-and-half, no sugar, just how he liked it — that would be swell.

Might as well. The floor’s lone coffee maker was along the way to Ambassador Celestino’s office. And the embassy, so new and rushed as it was, was so severely understaffed Yuuri didn’t mind his temporary demotion to coffee intern. He got up, wiped his brow, unstuck his shirt from his back, and made his way.

When he entered Ambassador Celestino’s office, the air was grim and  just as stuffy as his own office's. He asked Yuuri to close the door behind him. As he did so, his mind raced to find any reason as to why he might be in trouble. What had he done? He arrived in Ierus a year ago; he couldn’t have done anything in such short a time to warrant his boss’s ire.

“I’ll get right to the point,” Ambassador Celestino stated after Yuuri settled into the chair in front of his desk, nodding in thanks as Yuuri handed him his coffee. His eyes were bloodshot and dry, and Yuuri could greatly relate; on average, Ierus’s days had twenty hours of sunlight, and it had been a bitch to adjust.

“The crown prince of Oblast wants to visit Earth," Ambassador Celestino said. "He's planning on staying there for two weeks.”

Yuuri always thought it odd that, with how technologically-advanced and progressive Ierus was, monarchy was still the main form of government for most of its independent states. It certainly seemed to have worked for them; when compared to Earth, Ierus was light years ahead in terms of tech and academic achievement.

“Ah,” Yuuri said. “I’ll get started on the paperwork immediately.”

“No, that’s —” he pinched the bridge of his nose. It seemed like it had been, for Ambassador Celestino, a very long day. “He needs someone to show him around. Someone trustworthy, someone I know for certain won’t mess this up.”

“A tour guide, then,” Yuuri replied. “I’ll set something up.”

“Yuuri,” the ambassador said. “I want  _ you  _ to be the tour guide.”

The prince, his entourage, his universally beloved dog: what else would a prince of the most prosperous country in Ierus bring to a vacation? This was the first time a member of royalty has crossed from Ierus to Earth and vise versa; no wonder the ambassador was so stressed out, with the spectrum of possibilities of this ending badly ranging from an inconvenienced monarch to an interplanetary war. And then there was the handling of bodyguards, protection;  _ that _ was a whole other can of worms.

The ambassador’s words belatedly registered. Yuuri blinked.

He said, “What.”

“I’ve thought a lot about this,” Ambassador Celestino said, “and I’ve decided that you’re the most suitable for this job.”

“How so?” Yuuri asked. He looked inward and tried to see what his boss saw. Sometimes he successfully ordered takeout without messing up his pre-rehearsed lines. He used his blinkers when changing lanes and turning. Other than that, Yuuri had nothing; no inkling as to why he was “most suitable” for being in the presence in one of the most powerful men in the known galaxy.

The ambassador told him. Yuuri still didn’t understand. “Reliable” and “easy to work with?” What did those meaningless buzzwords have anything to do with anything? Yuuri voiced his concerns, and the ambassador said, “You’re overthinking this, Yuuri,” to which Yuuri replied, “This is a matter of interplanetary security, sir; I don’t think it’s  _ possible  _ to overthink it,” causing Ambassador Celestino to rest his head on his desk and groan, decidedly done for the day.

“To tell you the truth,” he then said, cheek sticking to the document he had been reading before Yuuri arrived, “I’ve only received the prince’s request to travel to Earth this morning, and he wants to leave by tomorrow. This embassy is severely understaffed, and you're the only employee who is around the prince’s age and is generally knowledgeable of Ierusian culture.

“I also trust you — you’re a good employee and a good man, Yuuri, and I need you to do this job.” He lifted his head up again to give Yuuri a “don’t fuck this up” look, sending his point home. “Diplomatic relations between Earth and Ierus began only a short while ago. Ierus is at the forefront of technological achievement this side of the galaxy. How long did it take for you to travel from Earth to here?”

“About a month or so.”

“Yeah? Well, a commercial Ierus aircraft can cross that same distance in a minute.” Ambassador Celestino leaned back on his chair and sighed. “Earth wants that tech. And we need to be in good standing in order to gain enough trust for it. We, as diplomats of Earth, are solely responsible for its reputation on this planet until commercial travel is ruled.

“Our job, essentially, is to kiss Ierus’ collective ass. So please, Yuuri: tomorrow, and for the rest of the time you two are in Earth, do your damn hardest to kiss the Ierusian prince’s ass.”

“Um,” Yuuri said.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.”

Ambassador Celestino gave Yuuri his signature thumbs-up. “You got this.”

Every fiber in Yuuri’s being begged to differ. But by now, he couldn’t refuse. And so he lied.

“I do.”

 

\-----

 

There was a cramped, college dorm-esque residency adjacent to the embassy that the higher-ups allotted for lower-ranked Earth diplomats. Yuuri, being one of the few to take up the offer, lived there with little complaint. He knew how great a privilege being one of the first batch of humans to take residence on-planet this was. And he could not find it in him to complain about the faulty plumbing, how often he would sweat through his entire wardrobe, or — and this is the most dire aspect of interplanetary diplomacy — the rather un-Earth-like customs of the citizens of Ierus, of which there were many his daily routine required him to interact with. 

And so he suffered, and adjusted: and now, a year later, he was confident enough to say that he was a model human of Earth who politely interacted with Ierus citizens whenever necessary, and could even hold up a conversation with one of them (two is a stretch; anything more than that was out of the question) without either severely disillusioning himself from their unconventional societal manner or severely offending his conversation partner.

Yet, despite his adjustments, his could never get over the fact that Ierusians were, well — _ weird. _ And they truly were. Ierus was one of the hottest planets Yuuri stepped foot on, yet Ierusians often bundled themselves up as if they were traversing through blizzards instead of an eternal dog day. They would rather jump off a cliff than make eye contact with passerby in the street, but were glad to have a chat if you are the first to approach. They grinned far too large and far too wide than what was humanly/socially/ethically possible.

They were  _ nice.  _ And it felt like they meant it.

And the crown prince was no different.

The first thing the prince did when Yuuri arrived at the meeting place, sweat already dripping into his eyes, was smile a signature Ierusian smile: too wide, too friendly, and oddly heart-shaped. Ierusians were one of the more humanoid aliens Yuuri encountered, but were most definitely not human, with their white hair, sixth finger on each hand, and skin in varying degrees of glittering neon. The prince was a bright blue, bundled in a multitude of white robes, and was at least a foot taller than Yuuri, towering enough over him to cast him in shadow.

“I am Victor Nikiforov, prince of Oblast, heir apparent to the throne,” the prince said, extending a hand. “And you are my tour guide?”

Yuuri, still not over the whole sixth finger thing, took the proffered hand and gave it a polite shake. “Yuuri Katsuki,” he said, “diplomat of Earth. Er, happy to be here.” 

Handshaking was not an Ierusian custom, and the fact that Prince Victor took the time to learn at least that much about Earthian greetings calmed Yuuri’s nerves a bit. The prince was considerate, probably. Maybe even nice. Yuuri would survive.

Yuuri made to take his hand back, but the prince’s grip remained firm. “It’s nice to meet you, Yuuri Katsuki,” he said, still smiling.

“Likewise.”

The grip did not loosen. “I am very excited for our trip to Earth.”

“I have some fun stuff planned.”

“Nice.”

“Nice.”

Yuuri allowed this — Prince Victor and him, standing alone in front of the Oblasti royal airship, hand in hand, silent, staring into each other eyes, silently daring the other to make the next move — to remain a minute longer before saying, “So. Let’s get going?”

“Ah! Yes,” Prince Victor agreed, and with Yuuri’s hand still in tow, began to drag him into the airship.

“You can let go of me, Your Highness,” Yuuri said, silently wondering if the prince noticed how sweaty their clasped palms had become. Damn this Ierusian heat.

“Ah. Yes.” Prince Victor, finally, let Yuuri go, and apologetically said, “I didn’t know when our handshake was to end, as I hadn’t gotten that far in the guide yet.”

Dread crept passed Yuuri’s sweat-drenched collar and jabbed itself into his ear, traveling his ear canal until it reached his brain and latched onto it with vice-like brambles. He asked, “What guide?”

_ “The Official Guide to Interacting With Our New Friends From Earth, Second Edition, _ that is," Prince Victor enthusiastically answered. "Quite a read. You Earthians and your customs are rather...exotic.”

Yuuri took back everything he thought to himself over the past minute. This was going to be a long week.

 

\----- 

 

“How interesting,” Prince Victor said for the fifth time today. The Statue of Liberty stood tall before them, stoic as ever, and Yuuri didn’t know what the hell he was doing wrong.

“It’s.” Yuuri searched through his limited knowledge of American history for anything to fill the awkward space between them. “It’s, uh. French.”

Prince Victor, who most definitely did not know what a French was, nodded. “I see.”

“It used to be brown, but it’s green now.”

“Hm.”

Yuuri threw in the towel. He didn’t think himself a coward and he figured that five hours into a two week-long commitment was a decent time to give up. “Okay,” he sighed. “I’m doing something wrong. What am I doing wrong, Your Highness?”

Prince Victor turned away from the statue to give Yuuri a thoughtful purse of his lips. Yuuri begrudgingly acknowledged that — neon skin, white hair, and sixth finger aside — the prince was, by human standards, incredibly handsome. “You’re doing a wonderful job, Yuuri Katsuki,” he assured him. “I was just thinking…”

“...Yes?” Yuuri prompted after the prince failed to pick up where he trailed off.

“Well.” Prince Victor’s eyes darted back at the Statue of Liberty for a moment before landing back on him, and he blurted out, “I’ve just noticed how…  _ drab  _ Earthian architecture is.”

One of the first things Yuuri noticed about Ierus was how spectacular their building designs were: how their tallest towers spiraled asymmetrically into the purple sky; how even the smallest of living spaces weren’t afraid to use bright color palettes and unconventional shapes; how boring the uniform Earthian embassy looked next to the sprawling Ierusian hospital that was tilted sideways and painted a coral pink. Yuuri had assumed that, because of how much Ierusians seemed to love and appreciate architecture, the crown prince would, too.

Yuuri let this process. His initial plan had been to visit one of the Seven Wonders of the World each two days of the two weeks they were to be here, but had — thanks to the Ierusian airship — sped through four of the seven in a couple of hours when the prince didn’t seem too impressed by any of them.

Then he somehow decided that the Statue of Liberty beat the Great Wall of China, and took them to New York. Where Victor Nikiforov, an alien prince he had known for less than a day, insulted his entire planet and all those who inhabited it by stating that their architecture was  _ drab.  _ Yuuri wasn’t sure if he should be offended. Was he?

He decided he was not. “I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“I do,” Victor stressed. “But I was expecting _more._ I want a truly unique, Earthian experience.”

Ambassador Celestino’s haggard face flashed before Yuuri’s eyes. If the prince returns to Ierus unhappy with his trip to Earth, Ierusian and Earthian ties will deteriorate. Earth won’t get the technology they want and will most likely try to take it by force. Interplanetary war will ensue. Ierus is more advanced but Earth has one of the largest militaries in the galaxy: millions will be lost on both sides. Desolation will follow. In the end, no one will win.

It will all be Yuuri’s fault. He wasn’t a good enough tour guide.

“What do you want to do then?” Yuuri asked, fighting with all his might to keep his knees from buckling under the weight of both their planet’s well beings.

“Where are you from, Yuuri Katsuki?” Prince Victor asked instead of answered.

Taken aback, Yuuri said, “Hasetsu. It’s a small town in Japan.”

“Hasetsu,” Prince Victor pondered. His eyes were a light blue, and Yuuri gulped under his gaze. It was only until the prince turned away when Yuuri realized there were flecks of gold spotting his irises and scleras.

“We shall go there then,” Prince Victor decided for them, heading to where his airship was parked. Before Yuuri could react, he turned back to him and said, “And you may call me Victor.”

“Oh,” Yuuri said lamely. “You can just call me Yuuri.”

“Yuuri,” Victor repeated. He smiled, close-lipped, and spun on the ball of his foot in a clean 180 to continue back to the airship, his hands loosely gripped behind him.

“Okay,” Yuuri said to Victor’s retreating figure, faint. He gave the Statue of Liberty a cursory nod before following distantly behind.

 

\-----

 

His parents, despite having their day intruded on by their supposedly-out-of-planet son and a blue, two meter tall alien prince, took to the situation with more grace than Yuuri could have ever hoped for, and had a clean room and a steaming bowl of katsudon set for Victor by the time they settled themselves in the family’s resort lounge.

“I have never tasted something so divine,” he stated, voice muffled from the rice and pork in his mouth. When Yuuri translated the compliment, his mother modestly ducked her head, and Victor said, “The flavor! The texture! My mouth is having a transcendental experience. I may forever spend my life chasing this high.”

Ierusian culture typically valued the act of eating food as a necessity rather than an activity to enjoy, so Yuuri wasn’t surprised at the reaction. If he had spent his entire life eating calorific blocks that had the texture and flavor of chalk, having katsudon for the first time would be a life-altering event for him, too.

“So you two came alone?” his sister, Mari, asked him, tapping her half-smoked cigarette on the table’s center ashtray. “No, like, royal guards or anything?”

Yuuri shook his head. When he had brought up the matter of security to Victor, he’d merely laughed and said, “They would spoil the fun!” Whatever that meant.

He had initially chalked it up to easing the migration process; later, when Yuuri and Victor jaywalked across the streets of New York City and were nearly ran over by a speeding hover car, Victor stopped the projectile with an outstretched hand, leaving behind a perfect imprint on the hood and a delirious driver scratching all three of her heads in confusion. Yuuri had realized, adrenaline filling his head and pumping his heart, that the lack of royal guards may be because —

“I don’t think he needs them,” Yuuri told Mari, and left it at that.

 

\-----

 

“Earth is strange,” Victor pondered; it was late at night, then, and the rest of the resort was sound asleep. The two of them were both still accustomed to the thirty hour Ierusian days, and Yuuri found him alone in the lounge, nursing a cup of steaming tea. “Your days are short, your weather is freezing. And your buildings do not migrate with the seasons. How do you handle the change in temperature and humidity?”

“Strange, indeed,” Yuuri replied, tone dry.

“You Earthlings are also very kind,” Victor continued to muse. “Your family care for you so dearly, and the hospitality they have shown me is heartwarming to have.”

“They’re good folks,” he agreed. He smiled, touched by Victor’s observation and warmed by the fact that, even after being away for so long, Yuuri was still loved. “I’m lucky to have them.”

“I’m sure you are.” Victor smiled back, seeming almost fond. He looked out of the window to the side of their table, and together they watched as the morning sunrise crested over the Hasetsu skyline.

 

\-----

 

Three days into Victor’s vacation, Victor asked Yuuri to take him to the ice rink he had frequented as a boy. “I’m curious — everyone has told me about your figure skating days,” was his reasoning, and Yuuri, too dumbfounded that Victor was still content with staying in Hasetsu instead of any other place on Earth, agreed.

“You’re beautiful on the ice,” Victor said, eyes wide and mouth open. Yuuri, chest heaving, broke his ending position and crashed to his knees in exhaustion.

“I haven’t skated in years,” he said, the rushing in his ears clouding his hearing. “I’m surprised I even remembered so much of that routine.”

Victor, unfazed, raised his hands in the air, yelled, “My turn!” and proceeded to run into the ice with his Ierusian Ugg-esque boots, immediately slipping and landing on his left hip with a loud  _ thump  _ and a muffled _ “Ompf??” _

Yuuri never laughed harder in his life. He glided over to the crime scene; Victor’s robes splayed around his immobile figure and the scratched ice, framing the incident like a work of art.

It made Yuuri laugh all the harder. He hauled him up by the forearms and said, “You need skates, Your Highness,” and led him out of the rink, unaware that he would be spending the next hour finding a pair wide enough to accomodate Victor’s extra toes.

Yuuri spent the rest of their time on the ice with Victor mostly in his grip, telling him to “place your foot like this,” or “focus your weight here.” Victor, being a fast learner, was drawing figure eights with his borrowed skates by the end of the afternoon, smiling all the while.

“We  _ must  _ do that again,” Victor conspired into Yuuri’s ear after Yuuko had kindly kicked them out, making the trek back to the resort.

Yuuri nodded so fast and so hard, vertigo almost knocked him to the ground. His feet were bruised and he was sure to feel the strain in his body the next morning — but they did go back to the ice rink the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that.

 

\-----

 

Seven days into their vacation, Yuuri took Victor to the beach. They had spent the last five hours looking after Yuuko and Nishigori’s triplets — as a thank you for the generous access Yuuko allotted them to the ice rink — and Yuuri and Victor both simultaneously vowed they would never have three children. The beach was mostly empty, as the weather was too cold, and they strolled past the crashing waves with their shoulders routinely brushing the other’s.

“And so she said, ‘I’m sorry,’ and jumped out of my window,” Victor concluded, his fingers running and jumping off his other hand like a diving board. “I never saw her again after that. But I  _ did  _ find out she was later charged with conspiracy to assassinate the neighboring country’s monarch...so I guess I dodged a bullet there! Both literally and figuratively.”

“That’s,” Yuuri started before shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s not something I’d label as an ‘amicable breakup.’”

“How about you, then? How did your’s end?”

Yuuri’s last relationship had ended with a phone call. His ex’s reasoning was a curt, “You’re not what I need at this point in my life,” of which Yuuri had taken to heart, the cryptic sentence haunting him for months afterwards. What had he meant by “not what he needed?” Was Yuuri too boring? Too unsuccessful? Too plain? With so many questions and no answer, Yuuri eventually chalked the deterioration of his longest relationship (a year and five months) up to a blend of all three, and, since then, beared the weight of this complex on his shoulders.

Yuuri was fine with being single. He had a job that took up most of his time and had him travelling intergalaxy for years at a time. He knew what he was getting into when he set his sights on diplomacy as his future occupation. Finding a person who was fine with either travelling with you or waiting back home was hard, near impossible, and Yuuri had made his peace with it.

But that didn’t mean that Yuuri didn’t get lonely sometimes. And his ex’s last words to him — _ you’re not what I need at this point in my life _ — made Yuuri wonder if he could ever be what anyone needed, and if he could need anyone in return.

“I guess it was amicable, too,” Yuuri mused.

“That’s good to hear.”

He shrugged, a touch of bitterness staining his mood. “They all end that way. ‘Amicable.’ And at first you’re glad that they do… but after a certain amount of ‘amicable breakups,’ you start to not want to them end ‘amicably’ anymore, but to not end at all.”

“Hm.” Victor squinted at him and slowed his paces, stopping when they reached the trail that leads back to the resort. Yuuri waited under Victor’s stare until he said, “You don’t deserve to feel that way. You’re too kind.”

Yuuri flushed. “Ah. I’m just being whiny.”

“Let yourself be. No use bottling all that up. You are allowed to be hurt, Yuuri.”

Yuuri, not liking where this was veering towards, decided to change the subject. “So, where to next?” he asked, watching Victor’s profile in his peripheral vision. “I still haven’t taken you through all seven wonders of the world, yet. I’ve always wanted to visit Brazil.”

Victor, thankfully not bringing up the sharp conversation change, hummed in thought and fiddled with the large sleeve of his robes. “How about that snack bar you mentioned earlier? The one your dance instructor owns?”

Yuuri clarified, “I’m talking about the rest of your vacation.”

“I am, too.”

“Victor,” Yuuri scoffed, “you can’t be planning on the rest of you stay on Earth  _ here.” _

“I plan on doing exactly that,” Victor corrected. He brought a hand to his chin, lost in thought. “How strict is Earth on interplanetary pet travel? Most large bodies of water on Ierus is underground, you see, and I’m sure my dog would love to visit your oceans.”

Hadn’t Victor been unenthused by some of the greatest architectural achievements humankind has ever created? What about Hasestu did Victor find so different?

“You told me less than a week ago that you wanted a unique experience on Earth,” Yuuri said, the salt from the sea leaving his exposed cheeks and forehead sticky to the touch.

“And I am. I’ve come to like this chilly weather. There aren’t any ice rinks in Ierus.”

“There are ice rinks in every country on Earth.”

“But I like  _ this  _ one.”

Yuuri threw his hands in the air, and admitted defeat, valiantly doing his best to smother just how exasperatedly charmed he was by the man walking by his side. “Your loss,” he relented.

“We can go to Brazil at another time, perhaps. Maybe later in the year? When are you busy? I have a summit I must attend back home in a couple of months, but I may have some free time in August.”

“Uh,” Yuuri said. There may had been a misunderstanding he had just noticed. The thought hit him hard and painfully. 

“Victor..." He trailed off and gathered his bearings. "You know that I’m not  _ actually  _ a tour guide, right?”

Victor squinted at him, like Yuuri was the fine print in a legally binding contract. “Uh. Yes? You’re a diplomat of Earth. You introduced yourself as one when we first met. You work at the Earthian embassy in Ierus. You’ve wanted to work in diplomatic relations since you watched a documentary about it when you were twelve. Am I missing something?”

“So you know that if you come and visit Earth again, I won’t be there to show you around?”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not a tour guide!” Yuuri felt like he was introducing the concept of the water cycle to a class of uninterested middle schoolers. “I’ll be back at the embassy, working, doing my job. Maybe I can set something up for you? I know some agencies who can plan a vacation better than I ever could.”

Victor let his hand fall back to his side and, to his surprise and shame, frowned with what Yuuri could only perceive as hurt. “I wasn’t asking you to come with me as a _ job.” _

Interplanetary war. Desolation. Yuuri, fix the mess you’ve made. “What? I’m sorry, Victor, I’m not sure I understand.”

“Well,” Victor said. He motioned between the two of them, a  _ you and me _ sort of gesture, his head cocked to the side, the hurt in his eyes melting from an emitting warmth that stifled Yuuri's throat.

And Yuuri, then, finally understood.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“...Hm,” Yuuri said, at a loss for words.

“We still have a week left,” Victor persisted, a hesitant smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “A week I would like to spend in Hasestu, eating katsudon and learning how to skate. With you, of course. Not as diplomat or as a tour guide. But as you.”

Yuuri, for the life of him, still didn’t know what to say. The sound of waves washing over sand swelled, echoing in his eardrums, crashing against the space in between them.

As he stood there, silent, Victor said, “You said it yourself that you always end up with amicable breakups. I don’t want this vacation to end amicably; I don’t want it to end at all.”

Victor took a step forward, and Yuuri could feel the warmth of him. Hasetsu was so cold this time of year, and Ierus was so hot all-year around — but Victor was the perfect in-between temperature, his body heat doing so well at drawing Yuuri in. A 100% success rate. Yuuri was so drawn in and he hadn't even realized it.

Thoughts of foreign diplomacy and and bleak futures left his mind. He focused on what was in front of him, instead.

“And if you don’t want that, nothing will change. But I do. I want that.” Victor leaned in close, and Yuuri marveled at the blue and gold in his eyes he hadn’t been able to admire before. “Would you mind, Yuuri? If we were to help each other? Would you mind if things were to change?”

At that, Yuuri’s mind settled. A surge of courage rushed through him, and he reached up to grasp at the collar of Victor’s snow-white robes.

“Okay, if that’s what you want. Let’s change things, then,” he said. When he spoke, his voice didn’t shake, strengthened with resolve and something else entirely. He breathed in, watching as Victor’s skin glittered and mouth softened. “Victor, let’s change things.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> written last year for the [yoi lit mag](https://yoilitmag.tumblr.com/). the ending is pretty heavily edited from wat was originally published for the project bc that version was uhhhhhhh bad
> 
> if you liked this, [here's](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17525219) another space themed yoi fic i wrote a while back for another project
> 
> comment and tell me wat you think!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/bosbiee)  
> [my tumblr](https://giftwrappingpaper.tumblr.com/)


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